


The Wheel and the Butterfly

by coveredinbees9



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Annnnngggsst, Baby Harry, Child Abuse, Child Death, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Poor Harry, Triggers, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 04:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5695621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinbees9/pseuds/coveredinbees9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marjorie Dursley arrives at Number Four Privet Drive with presents, a dog, and entirely too much to say. When she departs two days later she leaves behind; the presents, one fresh dog bite, and an awful idea burgeoning in one entirely too receptive mind. </p>
<p>The course of fate is altered and the future is irrovocably shattered. One boy will pay the price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wheel and the Butterfly

**Author's Note:**

> Honesty Time: This is my first fic in about 6 years. I've been reading them in that time and occasionaly writing them but this is my first posted work since I started college, and my first ever on AO3. Constructive critisim is welcome but plese be gentle with me. 
> 
> Also I am sorry for this thing that my brain has made. And that I chose to inflict this upon you guys. Please leave feedback and let me know how you feel about it.

Marjorie Dursley was a vicious woman. To compare her to her precious bulldogs would be a cruel insult to the species as a whole. She was brutal petty and unscrupulous.

She visited her brother and her sister-in-law for the first time after their son’s birth when the boy was four—she had absolutely no patience for squalling infants, they should be occasionally seen and never heard—and arrived to meet her nephew with toys in her bag and her prized bulldog at her feet.

To her surprise, there was another child in the house, one that looked nothing like her brother or his wife and acted like no child she had ever met. Learning that they had taken in Petunia’s drunkard sister’s child sounded preposterous, but there he was the scrawny little thing.

If he were one of her bulldogs’ pups she would have drowned the runt—string thin and a sickly look about him—and not suffered his presence further. Something not right about that one, sick in the head most like, and she said as much to her brother.

A look she had never seen before came into his eyes and Marge was suddenly looking at a stranger. The moment passed and they resumed their conversation.

She stayed two nights in the guest bedroom and, never having been good with numbers, she didn’t bother counting the doors in the house. She blew in to Privet Drive like a tornado, leaving gifts and one fresh dog bite behind when she bustled out two days later.

~

He had never been in a car before—never been beyond the fence-line of Number Four Privet Drive.

Uncle Vernon had returned from work early today. Aunt petunia was out shopping with Dudley and he had been left in his cupboard.  
Uncle Vernon had taken him by the arm and dragged/carried him to the car. They had been driving in silence. Uncle Vernon was still red and had been since he opened the cupboard door.

He watched out the back seat window, awed by the passing scenery. Had the world always been this big?

Soon all of the buildings had gone and all there was left was rolling hills and wide-open space. He had never seen anything like it and even though Uncle Vernon was so mad—and that certainly spelled trouble for himself—this was his favorite day ever. He had heard the word beautiful before but had never had anything to compare to it. He thought that this must be what the word meant—clear expanses of blue skies and the world stretching out as far as the eye could see—nothing could be better. 

The car came to a stop and Uncle Vernon got out, slamming the driver’s door before opening his door and dragging him out. There were trees now, bigger than any he’d seen on Privet Drive and a large body of water.

“You’re a freak boy, always have been. I knew we should never have taken you in. You’re unnatural! It’s been obvious from the start!” The bigger man shoved the boy to the ground and he landed hard, half in the water. “I thought I could make you normal, beat the strangeness out of you, but It’s impossible! Better to stop you the only way I know how!” Vernon yelled before lunging down on the boy, his mass pinning the small frame to the earth as the boy’s survival instinct kicked in and he started struggling. Vernon grabbed the boy’s tiny fists with one hand and his neck with the other. The boy’s head went under with a splash as Vernon held him down and the struggles slowly weakened and pocks of air escaped a slack mouth. 

Green eyes stared through the slightly muddy water at the blue sky he had loved.

As the last of the air breached the surface of the water, a sigh could almost be heard resounding in the sudden silence. The world seemed to shudder at the loss.

Harry James Potter—four years old and didn’t even know his own name—wasn’t living, wouldn’t conquer, and could no longer be anyone’s Savior.

The wheel turns, and the butterfly’s wings had set loose the breeze that would unleash a storm to devastate the world who wouldn’t save a four year-old boy.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and sobbing are welcome and appreciated.


End file.
